


Life Goes On

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Relationships: Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit, Ranboo/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 151
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

_It began with the smell._

_He was more like an animal than a human these days. Or at least, he felt it: depending on his eyes and ears and gut to keep alive, body tensing at every snapped twig and whistling wind. He tracked using nothing but his instinct, to find food, to hunt, to keep moving, moving, moving until the bones in his body were exhausted._

_Maybe humans had once lived like this, back when they were more animal than man. Back when they weren't at the top of the food chain, could be hunted by things stronger and faster than them. And what were zombies if not that? And maybe it’d been the urge to be more like a human again that had led him to following his nose, towards the house practically hidden behind a crumbling factory warehouse surrounded by trees._

_It’d looked so innocent. So clean. Too clean. But the handle on the door was well-worn; constantly used._

_Someone had settled down here. Settled down here as if the threat of zombies and death wasn't enough to keep anyone moving. As if it wasn't eight months into the end of the world._

_And yet, there they were: the scuff of shoes on the doorstep as they're removed, a pile of laundry in a basket, a bunch of fresh flowers arranged nicely into a vase. This and more signs of domesticity as he crawled deeper into the house, his bemusement growing along with his hunger, along with the wonderful smell of something… cooking._

_Honey. It smelled sweet, even when being cooked savory._

_He'd forgotten that._

_He remembered that he'd threatened the taller one with a rusty knife when they'd first met._

_Then there was Tubbo. The one who did the actual cooking. He remembered. Tommy didn't really cook. He just helped around the kitchen._

_He met them like this:_

_

“Holy shit did you just hiss at me?”

He doesn't know why he'd paused at that. Why the instincts that he'd built up for the many, many months just buckled and gave way to a blush of embarrassment then. 

And as if things couldn't get any worse, his stomach decides right then and there to let out the loudest growl in the history of mankind.

Cue awkward pause.

Okay, honestly, maybe he should just take his own rusty knife and drive it into his stomach. Anything to save him from this embarrassment.

“Hey! Uh- no. Don't worry. I- um. Tubbo! Say something!”

He’s wondering what this guy is going on about when a voice sounds from his right and he nearly jumps out of his skin. “You know I’m not good with words-“

The idea of sticking himself with his knife is getting more and more appealing with each passing second. If this other guy’s goal had been to kill him, then he'd have been dead already. Might as well speed up the inevitable, right?

“-listening? Er… hello? Um… are you okay? Crap, Tommy, do you think he's about to faint?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me? Maybe he doesn't want to eat is all and is thinking how he can reject you nicely.”

“That's unbelievable! Why would anyone reject my food?”

“Erm. Well-”

The two look like they’re about to start arguing, and he's always been a pacifist. Even living amidst a zombie apocalypse hasn't changed that, as much as he’d wished it to. It's caused him more harm than help so far.

“I- I wasn't listening. Sorry… … what did you say?”

His own voice surprises him. It sounds a bit rusty – creaky. Maybe even deeper than before. But he shouldn't have been surprised. He hadn't used his voice in maybe two months.

Hadn't had a reason to after all.

But it works. The other two have seemed to refocus their attention on Ranboo and the first one is smiling at him now and they’re… offering him food?

“What?”

“Food. We're in the middle of cooking dinner, but if you want, you can join us?”

He stares at the one who had spoken. He wonders if he’s finally gone mad from being all on his own for the past two months.

“I… I don't… think…”

“I mean, if you're worried about being any trouble, it's really no trouble at all.” The first one smiled, “or, I mean. Yeah. You don't know us at all right? I'm Tubbo, and that other useless lump is Tommy. We stay here and run this… Well, I'd say restaurant, but we don't really have customers. Hm… Drive by Bed and Breakfast?”

“We just feed whoever comes by who wants it.” The second guy, Tommy pipes up, “or at least, Tubbo does. I just chop the vegetables.”

“And the meat.” Tubbo chirps. “Come on, I made cabbage soup today. Was going to have the same thing for lunch and dinner, but well, we can just cook again.”

He doesn't think he should. His instincts are screaming at him, that this is far too good to be true. They could try to poison him, murder him.

But there's no reason for them to. He isn't carrying anything on him right now, other than his rusty knife, and a canteen he'd picked up on the road. He had to abandon his supplies a few days ago, when the camp he'd set up got discovered and raided by another group of survivors. And it hadn't been like he could have done anything, short of sneaking up on them while they were sleeping and slitting all their throats. Pacifist remember? So he'd just left them, feeling thankful that at least he hadn't been in his camp when they'd discovered it, otherwise it might have been his throat that had been slit.

But it doesn't change the fact that because of it, he's starving .

“Hey uh…” he looks to see Tommy smiling at him, the expression awkward and yet strangely soft. The other man scratches his ear. “If you're worried or anything… That's alright. I know it seems too good to be true. Hell, I thought so too before but… you're hungry aren't you? You should eat something. If you want, we can pack the food up for you?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo adds, his expression less awkward, but no less genuine. “Although we'd love more company, but if you're uncomfortable, that's fine too.”

He looks at the two of them, at their careful smiles and hopeful expression. They really seem to want him to eat with him. And they seem nice… And not angry and out to murder him.

They could be crazy.

But it's just a weak excuse at this point. And to be honest, the smell of food is driving him to the point of insanity. He's just so hungry.

“I- okay. Okay. I'll eat with you.”

Tubbo beams, letting out a cheerful whoop. It seems silly – there really isn't anything to be excited about. “Great! Anyway, I realized we haven't gotten your name yet.”

“Oh.” He blinks at that before he ducks his head. He suddenly remembers that not giving his name before accepting their offer was probably rude. He hasn't had to bother about social norms for a while.

“If you're uncomfortable with giving your name that's fine too-”

“Ranboo.” He interjects before Tubbo can go off into a tangent again. “My name’s Ranboo.”

“Oh! Ranboo, great! Weird name. If you want a shower, Tommy can show you where you can wash. Or at least wipe yourself down. Sorry man, I think you look pretty decent under all that grime, but, you stink.”  
¬

_

He took the shower in the end.

Although, he remembered now, that it’d been more of a rinse than a shower, dumping water over himself with a scoop from a huge tub of water. Something about Tommy not having pumped up the water for the evening yet or something.

He’d tried to drink from it at first before Tommy had stopped him in alarm. This water was for bathing, and cleaning floors. Tommy would give him a cup of water that had been filtered and boiled after his bath.

He remembered, standing in the shower, wondering if maybe he'd stepped through some wormhole somewhere and had ended up in some sort alternate universe or something.

After Tommy had brought him the glass of water as he'd promised, but also a change of clothes and some cookies, because dinner would still be a while and Tommy thought he might want something to stop his stomach from eating itself out.  
Standing there, in clean clothes, combed hair, eating cookies and drinking a glass of clean-tasting water, Ranboo knew that that probably was the most human that he'd ever felt ever since the world had started to end.

_

“So, how is it?”

Ranboo looks up, his cheeks still bulging with food, and he jumps and nearly chokes when Tommy bursts out laughing. He's still pretty stunned as Tubbo rolls his eyes pushing Tommy’s arm and reassures Ranboo that, “He's just weird. Don't mind him.”

The laughing turns to pouting scarily fast, and Tommy wrinkles his nose, poking Tubbo’s side. “Hey, I'm not the one asking the guest how's the food before he's even done,” He turns to Ranboo “And don't worry about him, he just wants his ego fluffed, which you don't need to humor him if you think the food is bad. His head’s already all big as it is.”

“Hey! If the food was bad he wouldn't be wolfing it down like that.”

“If you knew that then why did you ask? Besides, it could also be that he was starving. When you're starving, even barbequed shit would probably taste good.”

“Well, how about I starve you for the next week and then make you barbequed shit? Let’s see how that turns out-”

“Um-” Ranboo has finally managed to swallow the food he'd had in his mouth at this point, and thinks maybe he should interject before the threat becomes more solidly real. “The food’s great. It's… really, really good.”

The other two pause, before Tommy snorts, “Yeah. You know, I met him in a similar circumstance as you, and I readily admitted that I couldn't tell if his food was good or if it was shit because I was too hungry.”

“Hey, I asked you to have another meal so that we could both know for sure, and what was your verdict?”

“That you can cook better than me? Which isn't that high of a bar really.”

“You’re such a-”

“Ahem!” Ranboo interrupted again, “it's… it really is really good. Please… please don't fight.”

Tubbo pauses before he giggles warmly. “Aww. Aren't you sweet? Don't worry, the two of us love each other. We aren't really fighting.”

Ranboo doesn't quite know how to respond to that. And in his pause, he notices Tommy pinking a little, and… it's really weird, because it's been all zombie apocalypse for the past eight months for him. And really, he doesn't even know why he's noticing this, or why it’d even be important.

But if nothing else, the golden rule he's always applied has yet to fail him - and he thinks it would work even here: If it's none of his business, then he shouldn't stick his nose into it. Maybe live a little longer.

“R-right. Sorry. I just… I don't like conflict…”

“Ahh… Well, we'll try to argue less around you if that makes you uncomfortable?” Tubbo turns to look at Tommy, “think you can handle that?”

“Only if you stop being a bitch.”

“Wait- what do you mean…” Ranboo interrupts before shrinking a little bit when they both turn to stare at him. “Ah… I mean… why… I'm probably gonna… leave… After this… You don't need to… Worry about that…?”

“Oh.” And Tubbo deflates a little, “well, I guess if that's what you want, then…”

Maybe Ranboo should have just left it there, but he can't hold back the sudden surge of curiosity, because “there's… there's an… alternative?”

A few seconds of surprise, before Tubbo and Tommy eye each other. And Ranboo is beginning to get a bit nervous before Tubbo speaks again, “well. Like I said before, I feed anyone who comes by, and if you come by more than once, then...”

“...We'll feed you more than once.” Tommy supplies, mistaking Ranboo’s stunned silence for misunderstanding. “Actually if you want to, Tubbo would offer you the spare room as well. Tubbo’s the one who owns the place by the way. I'm… just like you actually. Stumbled here, got fed, got housed, and then kind of never left.”

“But…” Ranboo finally says, but more because they're both looking at him like they want him to say something. “I… why would you do that? Aren't you afraid that I might… murder you in your sleep? Steal your stuff and run off?”

“Oh.” Tubbo giggles, “Oh no, no. I mean, we're nice. Not dumb. This house only has a fraction of my food supply, so if you want to kill us then you're going to be losing out. Because, as long as I'm alive, you'll have an inexhaustive supply of food. If I'm dead, you only have what's in this house. Which isn't a lot. Maybe enough to last… a week and a half? That is if nothing spoils.”

There's an infallible logic in that as long as what Tubbo speaks is the truth. If he speaks the truth. He turns to look at Tommy, as if maybe he can gleam some revelation on the matter, but Tommy just shrugs, “Don't look at me. He still hasn't told me where he keeps most of his food stock. I only know what I need to know like how to do the chores I'm assigned to.”

“Hey, don't make it sound as if you're a slave. You're the one who started to do those chores on your own.” Tubbo protests, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to Ranboo, “Anyway, like I said, don't worry about us. Most people are more worried I'd murder them in their sleep, like this guy over here-”

“Hey, it was a genuine concern.”

“Still is actually,” Tubbo agrees wryly, “so if you don't want to take up our offer, it's totally understandable. But at least, you know, let us load you up with food to last a few days or something. It's a bit hard to get food in this area if you don't know what you're doing.”

Ranboo looks for some form of guile, some form of bluff, and sees none. Tubbo’s eyes are clear, and so are Tommy’s.

They seem kind.

But still.

He just... can't bring himself to trust them. Something inside him is yelling, screaming at him not to. That the two of them are just too perfect… That something's just…

Wrong.

“I…” Ranboo says quietly after a moment. “The food supplies would be… helpful… if you don't mind giving them to me.”

The disappointed looks are back again. But this time, Ranboo lets them dwell until Tubbo nods in understanding and says, “we'll set you up then, but finish eating first. The area here is pretty zombie free so you should have no problem finding a nice camp spot before the sun goes down. Sorry we can't spare you a flashlight, but we can give you a few wood torches and a box of matches? Oh. And clothes. Your clothes are still kind of drying, but if you don't care for them you can have the set you're wearing right now.”

It's more than Ranboo had expected actually. And he's not one to just simply look a gift horse in the mouth. “Thank you.” He says quietly, “this will really help me a lot.”

“Hey, it's really no problem.” Tubbo looks over at Tommy who nods, “just doing what any decent person would do.”

_

_  
He remembered he'd been wary at first, but who could blame him?_

_In the beginning, he tried to scrape together some more supplies by himself. He lasted about maybe four days before he realized it wasn't working._

_What Tubbo said had been true- it was hard to find food in this area if you didn't know what you were doing. He'd explored around but most of the buildings were abandoned warehouses that still had a few ambling zombies among them, with nothing useful except a few tools and metal bits that Ranboo had taken for himself. The forests had wildlife in them, sure, but he was missing most of the stuff he needed to make traps to hunt, and it wasn't like he'd been that good at hunting with his bare hands._

_And so, Ranboo was stuck. He probably could try to make the trip with the three days’ worth of food, hope that his luck of finding more would improve, and get to the next town._

_Or he could… go back, ask for more. They said they would feed him whenever he went back after all._

_He’d pondered on the dilemma for two more days, and by then, it was a fool's errand to think he'd be able to make the trip with one day’s worth of food._

_He went back._


	2. Chapter 2

It's kind of a good thing that Tommy was out in the front working with some kind of pump mechanism, because Ranboo thinks that he would have ended up loitering outside like an idiot for a good five hours while he debated with himself yet again if he shouldn't just maybe not disturb the two nice fellows who had given him food once already, and really don't need to deal with his shit a second time. Because Tommy sees him approaching from the distance and his face visibly brightens, even from so far away, and Ranboo shyly waves back as he realizes that it's probably too late to have second thoughts now.

But Tommy doesn't even question why Ranboo is back. He simply just waves Ranboo into the house, saying. “Tubbo’s out doing some chores and won't be back until an hour later. I need to finish pumping the water up first then I'll go fix you something fast! Just hole up in the living room. There's some books and shit if you're into that- If not you can just chill. I should be done in about five to ten more minutes?”

And Ranboo kind of gets shooed in and he feels too awkward to do anything else but do as he's told, and he perches on one of the couches, a little afraid he might dirty it. True to his word, Tommy sort of rushes in, yelling something about leftovers, and soon Ranboo is being shoved a plate with a sandwich, meat jammed inside.

Tommy is kind of awkward, Ranboo won't deny. But there's something endearing about the way he tries. And then, they both stumble upon the fact that they're both into Technoblade (Popular youtuber, probably a zombie now though), and the floodgates just open, and this the scene Tubbo comes back to:

Tommy having Ranboo in a playful headlock, the two of them laughing too hard for this to be anything but play. They're yelling stuff, _wait was that a Technoblade reference?_ And he just leans against the doorway, watching in amusement, and wondering how long it’d take before either of them notice him.

Ranboo notices Tubbo first, and when he does, he trips, pulling the both of them onto the ground in his alarm. But maybe Tommy had actually seen Tubbo since the older had arrived, Tubbo can smell it from the way he just giggles more, expression unsurprised as he waves at Tubbo from where he's lying on the ground. He probably just hadn't been bothered to stop his fun, definitely not for the sake of something like greeting Tubbo.

When they finally untangle themselves, Tubbo pushes away from the doorway, and with a large grin, he asks:

“So… what would you guys like for dinner?”

_

_It was a slow decline, but it felt like a freefall. At first, Ranboo only went over for dinner; then it became lunch and dinner, and then one day, Tubbo had shaken him from where he'd fallen asleep on the couch and pretty much shoved him upstairs and into the spare bedroom and then Ranboo just didn't bother to leave._

_It took over the course of two weeks maybe, but it felt like forever. And Ranboo can't remember how he could have possibly lived before this - without Tubbo, without Tommy, without their care and smiles. He can't remember how he could have possibly survived all on his own._

_

“Tubbo?” Ranboo pokes his head into the kitchen, a basket of laundry perched on his hip, “I finished taking in the laundry, you don't have to leave the stove when you start cooking!”

Tubbo looks up from where he's penning something into what looks like a logbook of sorts, and his mouth spreads into a brilliant smile. “Oh. Wow. That's… you're seriously such a help, Ranboo. I don't know what we'd do without you.”

Ranboo’s chest can't help but puff up with pride at that, but he ducks his head, blushing and mumbles something about putting away the laundry and backing out.

It's like any normal day, or any normal day ever since he's started living with Tubbo and Tommy. And Ranboo is beginning to really fit in, sink into the spaces that Tommy and Tubbo have left, tucking away any of the edges that had been peeking out. There are a few spaces which Ranboo won't touch, and it's the odd close relationship between Tommy and Tubbo, even with all the hugs and various forms of skinship they share with Ranboo: there's no mistaking when Ranboo sometimes doesn't see Tubbo anywhere else in the house while Tommy’s door is closed, and thankfully, the walls in this house seem thick, and all he can hear sometimes are muffled sounds, but well, he doesn't think he's quite ready to unpack that yet. But other than that, he likes them, likes how warm and welcoming they are, and chores are just his way of repaying but a fraction of how grateful he feels.

And on this normal day, Ranboo is doing his duty of putting away the laundry - a chore that both Tommy and Tubbo hate, so they tend to just leave everything into organized piles. But Ranboo doesn't mind. Putting the laundry away is pretty cathartic.

It's all normal until Ranboo is done with stowing away the laundry in Tommy’s room, and he lifts the basket of laundry to bring it to Tubbo’s, and that's when his body suddenly jerks, the oddest feeling of numbness seizing his body.

He watches the laundry basket fall to the floor, the clothes spilling out. But he can't move, can't bat an eyelid, can barely even breathe.

And then suddenly it's over, and he nearly falls over if not from shock, then relief. And he's panting and breathing, wondering what the hell had that been?

Barely seconds later, he gets another shock, when a hand touches his back, and he jumps, nearly falling over into a defensive crouch, before he realizes the person staring at him with concerned eyes is not some random attacker, but Tubbo.

Tubbo who has his hands out in front of him, placating, as if this is weeks back and there had been absolutely no trust between them. Tubbo, who is… apologizing.

“Hey… sorry. I… I thought you heard me. Are you… are you okay?”

It hurts Ranboo’s heart a little.

“Y-yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I- I just.” Ranboo breathes in, trying to reign in the panic. How does he explain what had happened when he doesn't know either? “I don't know… maybe I got a… cramp or something?”

“Oh.” Tubbo blinks before he frowns. “Have you been overdoing it? I mean you are recovering from malnourishment.”

“I… no- I…” That doesn't quite make sense. Because if that had been the case, then he should have experienced such symptoms earlier. But Tubbo seems quite convinced, and he's pulling Ranboo into his arms, carding his fingers through Ranboo’s hair, probably trying to be comforting, and it's just so nice to be pampered for once. “I… I guess…”

“Mmm… next time you don't need to do all the laundry okay? Maybe you can help me watch the food? I'll teach you how.”

Ranboo likes doing the laundry, and Tubbo likes cooking. It's not the other way around. But somehow, Ranboo finds himself nodding. “Yeah… That's… that sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn't it?” Tubbo smiles up at Ranboo kindly, “you feeling better? If you are, leave the laundry for a bit, okay? Lunch is ready.”

_

_If only it’d happened but once. If it had, Ranboo could have brushed it off as a freak occurrence: a once-off, absolutely nothing to worry about._

_If only Ranboo didn't need to hide the multiple times it would happen after. He was afraid - maybe of worrying Tubbo and Tommy, maybe because he's worried he'd get kicked out for causing trouble. Truth was, he didn't really know why; just that he hid it. Instinct told him to._

_Maybe, if it had just been that, it would have been fine. He wouldn't have been discovered. But it hadn't been just that._

_There was also the hunger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes downhill from here! (Major Character Death remember? I'm positive you already know who's flying high soon)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, it's the sequel


End file.
